Then I turned. I turned, my torso blanketed with the blood of the many I had already killed. When I locked gazes with Master, I smiled. His face paled and he tried to search for a way out. I shook my head, telling him silently that there was nowhere to go.
Reaching forward, I gripped the collar of his jacket and wrenched him close. A terrified cry left his throat as I did, then I spat in his face. I dragged him down the stairs, pulling him down until we reached the pit. My heart thudded with excitement when I heard his perfectly polished shoes crunch on the bloodstained sand of the pit. Around me, the volume of the riot quieted.
Reaching the center of the pit, I threw Master to the ground. I took hold of his hair and wrenched him up until he was on his knees. I looked up, and my breath caught when I saw that every other fighter in the pit was looking my way. The crowd that had not yet met their death watched with wide eyes as I circled Master.
Luka, Valentin, and Zaal moved closer to me. Their eyes were bright with their recent kills. Blood covered us all. We looked wild and insane.
We looked like Blood Pit warriors.
The fighters around us closed in, until a large circle kept Master trapped. I watched as he raised his head and met the eyes of every fighter. Then I saw his face drain of blood even more when he clicked his fingers. That click would once have ordered his males to obey.
As they stared at their former master with circled lips and clenched hands, I could see the realization sink in.
“They are no longer your slaves,” I informed him, my voice rough from the fight.
Master blinked and I stepped back, holding out my hand to Luka, Zaal, and Valentin. Master watched every move I made.
“Master,” I said dryly, “it seems your tournament has been taken over. You cannot command loyalty. Loyalty is earned.”
The Wraiths that had helped in the revolt pushed to the front of the circle, led by an older man in a suit. “Abel,” Master hissed. Abel nodded slowly.
“The champions you so love, Master,” I said sarcastically, “are the Volkov Bratva and the Kostava Clan of Georgia.” Master stared at Luka, Zaal, and Valentin. I pointed to Luka. “Luka is the knayz, once a prisoner of the Alaskan gulag. Zaal, one of the Kostava twins you experimented on for years right here in the pit.” I then pointed to Valentin, who was rocking rabidly on his feet. His knuckles were white as he clutched his picanas. “And this,” I said, “was your sister’s—”
“Bitch sister’s,” Valentin corrected and bared his teeth.
“Bitch sister’s Ubiytsa.” Valentin stepped closer to Master, and I added, “His name is Valentin Belrov … he is Inessa’s brother. Inessa, you know. But to you she is 152. Your High Mona. The one you left tied up and hanging on for life in the basement.”
I didn’t think it was possible for Master’s skin to blanch even more. But as he stared at Valentin, Valentin who had tipped his head back and roared out his pain, I was wrong. Valentin ran forward, and sent the tips of his picanas through the back of Master’s calves. Master roared out as the picanas pegged him to the ground.
Luka reached out and dragged Valentin back. For a second I thought he would fight Luka to kill Master. But Zaal stepped up to his side, helping keep him in place. Valentin glared at me instead.
“Finish him,” he ordered with a deep harshness. “End him!”
Casting a glance around the room, I saw every fighter that Master had enslaved watch me, pure hope in their eyes. Hope this was it. This was the liberation every one of us craved but never believed we would get.
As I stepped closer to him, Master looked up at me. Narrowing my eyes, I said, “This ends today. From this point on, this pit will not exist. The gulags that Luka has told me of will be destroyed one by one. Your associates will be murdered. Your name will be forgotten.” I pointed my Kindjal to every one of the fighters thirsting for his blood. “We will all leave this place.” Bending down, I said, “We will all get our names back. We will live … in freedom!”
“I made you!” Master hissed, and stuttered through the pain Valentin’s picanas where causing. “I made all of you! In this arena you were gods!”
“No,” I said, slowly shaking my head for emphasis, “we were slaves. But out there, we will be whatever we want. As I have been told it should be.”
“Ilya,” Luka said, and I met his eyes. He nodded, telling me to get it done.
So I did.
Walking to stand behind Master, I surveyed all of the fighters and the mesmerized crowd, Master’s investors who had profited from our imprisonment. Taking one of my beloved Kindjals, I slowly raised it high. With a thunderous roar, I plunged it straight through the top of his skull. I kept screaming as I did. The remainder of my hatred and fury released and drifted to the ceiling.
The males were quiet in the aftermath. They all stared at Master, dead, bent on his knees.
This time he was below us.
He had submitted to our collective strength.
Valentin broke the silence by facing the fighters in the stands and calmly ordering, “Kill them all.” He pointed to the rest of Master’s people. The fighters didn’t move. Then they all looked to me. My chest filled with pride when they waited for my command.
Luka stepped forward. “You are their champion. They will only take orders from you.”
Taking hold of my blade’s handle, I ripped it from Master and kicked his corpse to the floor. Turning in a circle, I then raised my blade into the air and ordered, “Fucking kill them all!”
The room seemed to shake violently with revenge and the sheer need to cull. The fighters attacked as one. They charged the crowd, weapons held high.
Valentin gripped my arm as he retrieved his picanas from Master’s legs. “Go,” he pushed. “Get Inessa.” He looked to the crowd. “We’ll get these dicks.”